THE RIGHT TO VOTE: Infringement in West Bengal, India

THE RIGHT TO VOTE

India is the largest democracy in the world. The right to vote and more importantly the exercise of Vote by the eligible citizens is at the heart of every democracy. The people of India, through this exercise of the right to vote have the ultimate power to shape the destiny of the country by electing the representatives who run the Government and take decisions for the growth, development and benefit of all the citizens.

WHO CAN VOTE?

All citizens of India who are 18 years of age or above as on 1st January of the year for which the electoral roll is prepared are entitled to be registered as a voter in the constituency where he or she ordinarily resides. Only persons who are of unsound mind and have been declared so by a competent court or disqualified due to Criminal Charges, ‘Corrupt Practices’ or offences relating to elections are not entitled to be registered in the electoral rolls.

ABOUT THIS ESSAY

The West Bengal Assembly Elections, part of a series of state assembly elections will be held in six phases and are scheduled to begin on 18^th April, 2011. West Bengal has been ruled by the Left Front for the past three decades, making it the world’s longest-running democratically elected communist government. However, over the years the popularity of the communists have dwindled and the 2011 Assembly Elections are going to be a real tough test for the Left Front. The Leader of the Opposition, Mamata, is hailed by a large mass of people as the ‘leader of the common man; the symbol of change in the state’.

This essay is focused on my co-dwellers in West Bengal, who have simply no knowledge about the upcoming elections in West Bengal. They have been deprived of their right to vote simply because politics and politicians are yet to reach them.

 

 

1

Gopal Pandey is a beggar. Every day, one will find him begging at the traffic signals of Park Circus, Calcutta. A frail man with a feeble voice and weak lungs, Gopal tells me he has no idea about the upcoming elections in the state. And he talks in an apologetic manner as if he’s really sorry that he doesn’t know about the elections.

 

 

2

I find smoke coming out of a tent located near a country liquor store. It’s moderately big in size. Three men are sitting inside, eating rice and fish. A woman is roasting moong daal on an earthen oven, her faced covered by her sari to shield herself from the smoke. She tells me, her name is Tetri Devi and she is originally from Kakdwip, located at the south of West Bengal.

She runs this pice hotel. Her sons help her in the business.  She has no idea about the coming elections. But on interviewing her sons, I get the idea that they know a fair amount about it, though none of them have Voter ID Cards. ‘Mother is old. What good is it, anyway?’ one of them says.

 

 

3

Rizmail Sheikh is a rag-picker living in Dankuni. He travels to Calcutta everyday to work. When the topic about the Bengal Polls was raised, he said, ‘No, I don’t know about the elections. But when it will come, I’ll have to procure a Voter ID card! Is it difficult getting one?’

 

 

4

Jogindar is a beggar. Hailing from Punjab, he migrated to West Bengal during the early fifties and did odd jobs to survive. Now in his eighties, homeless and without a family, Jogindar begs in Howrah. He is yet to know about his constitutional right to vote.

 

 

5

Devi Das is a rag-picker in Central Calcutta. She has been living on the pavements of her city since her childhood. The Quinquagenarian does not have any knowledge about the upcoming elections in Bengal.

 

 

6

Muhammad Sabir is a van-driver in the Burra Bazaar area of Calcutta. His cycle-van transports goods from the wholesale market to various shops and houses of individuals in different parts of the city. A citizen of Calcutta, Sabir is yet to know about the upcoming elections in the state.

 

 

7

Bali Das pulls a cycle-rickshaw in Howrah. At first he was reluctant to answer any question I asked. But later, he said that he does not have a Voter’s ID card and does not care about the vote.

 

 

8

Ram-Nandan Yadav is a strong septuagenarian. He has been working in a cow-shed in the eastern fringes of Calcutta for a very long time. Originally from Uttar Pradesh, he shifted to West Bengal almost half a century ago. I find him digging deep into a thick pile of cow-dung and filling up iron buckets with it. ‘Ask my owner! Not me!’ he replies and points towards a mustachioed man sitting on a khatia nearby when asked about the elections.

 

 

9

As I walk by AJC Bose Road in Calcutta, I find this man crossing the road. I take his photograph, then ask him what his name is and if he knows anything about the elections. ‘No, no! No more! I know you are going to put me in jail! Go away! I don’t know anything! Leave me!’

 

And I do as he says.

 

 

10

While going down the Red Road, I find Kallu taking rest under a tree. It’s a hot afternoon in March. There are not many people on the streets. And there’s a silence in the atmosphere, which is interrupted every few minutes by a noisy bus. I find Kallu, staring blankly at the road in front of him. It used to be a runway once, during the British era. Now, it’s an important road where the Republic Day Parade is held every year. During the interview, Kallu tells me that he is unemployed. He lives in Sealdah. ‘Usually I find kind of job every day. But today I was unlucky. Will try again after a few hours.’ On the question about the upcoming elections, he flatly tells me he knows nothing.

 

 

11

Muhammad Nathani calls Calcutta his home. He has nowhere else to go. Born in Darbhanga, Bihar, he has been in Calcutta for more than fifty years. Every day, he works for twelve hours at various sites in Calcutta as a laborer. Though he has no information about the upcoming elections, he asks me if I can help him get a Voter ID Card.

 

 

12

The children playing near his ‘hotel’ call him ‘Daari Chacha’ because of his beard. A cook in a roadside eatery outside Calcutta, he serves the truck drivers throughout the day. He asks me to take his photograph but later on, when I raise the Assembly Elections topic, he shrugs and says, ‘No, what’s that?’

 

As I start questioning him about how much he earns and where he lives and who’s there in his family and what’s his name, he gets suspicious and will tell me anything. ‘You’ve taken my photograph. That’s enough! Go away, now!’

 

 

13

Subhadra Burman says she used to work as a ‘day-and-night servant’ in a Bengali household in Calcutta. She retired years ago. Now, her family looks after her. ‘Don’t know about it…does not even care…I’m too old!’ she says when I ask her about the Bengal elections.

 

 

14

Bapi Mukherjee lives on the street with his family. He was born and brought up here. Bapi does odd jobs in small construction sites. Living outside a dilapidated wall of a dilapidated mansion, Bapi smiles from the footpath where his family lives, ‘No, don’t have a voter’s card. Don’t know anything about the votes!’ His mother says dryly, ‘They have all taken our photos! What good is it, anyway?’

 

 

15

Gouri Roy is in her eighties. I found her in a dark corner of a dilapidated structure at one of Calcutta’s ghats. When interviewed, she said, ‘My leg is fractured. I am now handicapped. The daughter left me here more than a month ago. She is yet to come back.’

Gouri does not care about the elections or anything else that does not concern her. She is just anxious about her future and waiting for her daughter to come back and take her home.

 

 

16

Rabindranath Adhikari resembles Rabindranath Tagore, the legendary figure in Bengal, who reshaped Bengali literature and music.

He says he was 22 in 1946. That makes him eighty-seven today. A frail man with a flowing beard, Rabindranath gives me a spiritual lecture about the duties of a teacher in life.  When the topic about the upcoming elections was raised, he said, ‘Will any party really look after me? Will any party feed me? Will anyone give me a job now?’ he says. By now a crowd has gathered. One of them is a member of a political party whose party office is in the next block. He says sweetly, ‘But you don’t need any job! You are old now! You just cast your vote for our party! If you have a Voter’s ID card, it is our duty to take you to vote!’ But Rabindranath is in no mood to listen. He continues, ‘Whoever will do a good job, I will support them! But remember, it is only my beloved god, who will look after me! The rest is trivial!’

 

 

17

I find Sanaka Sardar in Eastern Metropolitan Bypass. She tells me she is involved in the repairing work of the main road. Originally from Sundarbans, she has no clue about the upcoming elections.

 

 

18

Shekhar Chatterjee was born in Khulna, presently part of Bangladesh. He was amongst the millions who migrated to this country during the Partition of India. He worked as a hawker in Madhyamgram. ‘I used to go from door to door, selling different things. Nearly twenty years ago, my wife cheated on me and married someone else. Took everything I had.’ He says.

‘I left home. And have been homeless since then. Everyone knows about my story in Madhyamgram! Ask anyone!’ he adds. About the elections in Bengal, he says, ‘When I had a family, when I had a home, I used to vote. Now, it does not matter anymore. Don’t keep track of these things…’